The Lake House

Part 2

Dinner finally arrived. The siblings devoured their cold takeout and retired to the living room with another round of drinks. Long shadows sectioned the house, like tiger stripes. The tall windows poured moonlight against the wood floors and empty furniture. Luke flicked a lamp on, illuminating the living room. Aleksa studied the remote that controlled the electric fireplace. She found the power button and flames blazed behind the iron grate.

"To staying strong." Luca held up his drink from the armchair.

The sisters joined him in the toast. They each took a sip of their drinks, their gaze unfocused, each of them lost in their own heads.

Aleksa thought of her children at home. They were all she had left in life and were so far away. Then, Rianon's tragedy came to mind. What if Aleksa never made it home? What if she returned and they were gone. She glanced at her sister and guilt rushed in for fearing the scenario that currently haunted her sister. Could Aleksa have these fears? Did that make her a bad sister?

But Rianon wasn't paying attention to either Aleksa or Luca. She stared at the fireplace, sipping from her glass. Her head buzzed. She shoved her guilt aside. Luca's toast echoing in her mind. Strength. The way Rianon held her chin up, her shoulders back and her body straight, unbroken despite her misery. Aleksa admired her. She would do anything to help her sister heal.

Rianon sniffed and blinked tears away. She turned away from the fire. Both Aleksa and Luca watched her. She cracked a small smile and wiped the wetness from her eyes. Then she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "At first," she stared into the yellow drink in her hands, "I thought that the fatigue had been my body healing, but that was months ago, you know." She licked her lips. Luca sat silent beside Aleksa. They both waited for her to continue. "My bones healed and my bruises faded." Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. She peered up at them, eyes large and sad. "I'm still so tired."

Aleksa reached for her hand and squeezed. Rianon sniffed again and sat up.

"I'm sick of crying. Tears won't bring me to them." She set her glass on the table beside the armchair and pressed the heel of her palms to her eyes. Then, she straightened her top and ran her hands over her legs before retrieving her glass again. She continued to fidget, like she feared what would happen if she stopped moving.

Luca shifted in his seat on her other side. "You guys wanna play?" He produced a deck from a drawer in the coffee table.

Rianon scooted forward from her seat on the couch. Aleksa watched the cards being dealt, one by one. They flicked from the deck and slid into their appointed piles, each brush of card against card a loud whoosh in her ears. One by one. They'd play cards. Might as well. Aleksa reached for her sister again, this time giving her arm a squeeze. Rianon didn't take her eyes off the cards. Her face had grown cold and unreadable. Aleksa feared the far off look in her eyes, worrying, not for the first time, that Rianon wished she had died with James and Analee.

"You go first." Luca gestured to Aleksa and fanned out his hand.

They played Rummy. No need to discuss it, it's what they always played when cards were brought out. Aleksa struggled to pick out patterns in the cards. The tequila clouded her mind. She picked up a face down card from the deck and discarded the only club in her hand. They each took a couple turns without talking, none of them placing any of their cards on the table.

"Jess asked me to teach him how to play a few weeks ago." Aleksa eyed the card Rianon had just discarded, hoping Luca wouldn't pick it up before her turn came around again. "I tried and he almost got it. Maybe this summer he can practice with you guys."

"Good call teaching him, instead of Shane." Luca chuckled. "Your husband sucks at Hold-em."

"Yeah." She forced a laugh. A perfect opportunity to bring up the betrayal, the separation. It felt unnatural keeping the secret. She had to, for Rianon. Aleksa wondered if she was trying to convince herself as she reached for her glass. In the back of her mind, she feared that sharing would make it too real, would bring on the rush of pain waiting for her. She gulped from the glass. The cards before her blurred. She blinked and chose a discard.